


She Probably Should Have Worn a Wig

by Mu (voicesofthedrowned)



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:56:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voicesofthedrowned/pseuds/Mu
Summary: Remember that one time everyone appeared in a goofy prime-time spy thriller?





	She Probably Should Have Worn a Wig

It was 8:48am on Monday, January 23rd, and today was her first day in the field.

This wasn’t the first time she had her fingers knotted in the ivory suit-jacket, though, yanking it down firmly to command it’s obedience. She knew it was designed to settle this way. Knew that it was meant to hug her figure and accentuate her shape. That didn’t make it any less uncomfortable and it certainly didn’t make the skirt hugging her thighs any less restrictive. She wasn’t claustrophobic but she couldn’t help but feel trussed up like some honeyed ham ready for the oven.

Mother would have smiled at that.

Still, when she stepped out of the taxi, proud that her feet didn’t wobble in those hellish death traps people call heels, she knew she looked immaculate. She knew that the glances shot her way were to her advantage and so long as she managed her nerves she was in control. The grand couturier, unnerving as she was, had done her job well. Now it was her turn.

It was 8:50am when she walked into the lobby and past the front desk. The young man sitting there glanced up at her from his work and did a double take. A sudden, silly smile struck his face.

“I like your hair, miss,” he said.

She tried not to wince and forced it into as genuine a smile as she could muster. “Thank you.” She could practically hear the _I told you so_ she was going to get when she got back. It was the red and she knew it. They were going to make her wear a wig. She hated wigs. She hated the way they itched.

Even though all of this cloak and dagger really wasn’t her style she had to admit that when she strut past all the busy people, and past all the security cameras in broad daylight a rush of exhilaration danced through her. She was now a true wolf in sheep’s clothing. Years of deliberately looking dangerous and drawing attention to herself never quite prepared her for the appeal of the opposite.

At 9:04am she slipped into the break room and prepared a cup of coffee.

There was something incredibly cliche about this gig but they had kept it simple on purpose. She was a rookie, after all, and the game was more to get her out and on the field than to put anyone in any real danger. A splash of cream and two spoonfuls of sugar mixed seamlessly with what her trainer had emphasized as  _something incredibly potent to keep him off your hands for a while_. “I suppose I shouldn’t have to tell you not to try it yourself,” he had said, and she had imagined herself punching that smug smile right in the teeth.

“I’m not an idiot, _sensei_.” She was still proud of her self control.

When she arrived at the office at precisely 9:10am she knew she had this in the bag. She set the cup gently on the desk beside the man working there. “Your coffee, sir.”

“Thank you, Anna.” She spared a moment to wonder if that was really the secretary’s name. If he would have even noticed. It was then, much to her surprise and much to her dismay, that he glanced up at her and blinked. A jolt of clarity.

Her fucking _hair._

“I like the hair.”

Either this man was an idiot or Anna was practically invisible.

“Thank you.” She carefully tailored her features into something shy but not too shy. The kind of face that tells a man she knows but is modest about it anyway. He bought it. The dumb bewildered look on his face told her she was still safe. _Good_ , she thought, _drink the damn coffee._

His arm flexed ‘subtly’ and a hand extended for the cup left for him on his desk. She tried not to gag. “You know, Anna,” he mused. “In all this time I don’t think we’ve ever really gotten to know each other.”

Those carefully tailored features faltered. Are you _serious?!_ She did her best to wrangle her disgust into a coy smile. “There is still time for that, I hope, but you have a meeting at nine thirty, sir.” The bait is taken with a heated glance down her torso and she could feel the bile well in her throat. _Drink. The Damn. Coffee._

He did. A slow, languid sip. The urge to roll her eyes almost overtook her and for a second time that week she found herself proud of her self control. The cup drifted from his lips. “But I _am_ free this afternoon, yes?”

“Perhaps lunch, then?” Her heart skipped a few beats as she counted the seconds. Is it supposed to take this long? Sheer force of will alone kept her eyes fixed on the man before her with ‘interest’ and not revulsion, but her patience was beginning to fray. When he angled himself to face her directly, the chair turning, she felt the spring at her core tighten to near snapping.

The motion must have been enough to tip him over. His face twisted into obvious discomfort and he jumped to his feet. “Perfect. Now, excuse me a moment.” She did her best not to laugh aloud when the door closed behind him.

Yes, perfect. As she’d said before, she had this in the bag. It was 9:23am and while we were a hair behind schedule it was still in plenty of time to cover what she needed.

The small thumb drive from her pocket popped unceremoniously into the open laptop and the computer sprang to life. Like a dog unleashed the program was immediately set to work. She then flopped into the wheeled chair, let it spin, and swung her feet up on the desk. Her cockiness tugged her lips into a grin. It would only be a minute now and she’d be out the door before anyone had known what had hit them.

She watched the download and she waited. Precious seconds slipped by, traded for blips along the loading bar, but they were ones she had counted on. Her grin settled into a contented smile and she twirled the red streak in her hair between her fingers.

It was then that the door kicked in. That the massive gun held in two strong hands hoisted to her height. That she had barely an instant to lunge for the nearest cover before a spray of bullets filled the space she’d been. She wrenched a small pistol from the inside of her suit and waited for the shattering roll of gunfire to stop, her teeth clenched against the noise.

With an abrupt shudder of clicking, clip spent, the hail stopped. She then heard the pronounced snap as the laptop shut and her eyes turned just in time to see a tall black form. It quickly swept her prize under its arm before disappearing backward into the room.

She fired twice into dead air as they vanished into the hallway then lunged out after them. Precious seconds were wasted as her blue eyes flicked in the direction of the elevator to find it unoccupied. She almost mourned the laptop then, but the sound of an opening door behind her wrenched her attention it’s way. The computer was going out onto the balcony and she spared not a moment racing to it’s rescue, launching outside just before the door closed.

When the thief turned she stumbled to a stop. No amount of training had prepared her for the way her heart stalled in her chest.

Her attacker was silhouetted perfectly by the golden halo of morning light and she was devastatingly beautiful. Tall with sharp noble features and a distinctive tapered brow that furrowed over brilliant, intelligent bright blue eyes. It took everything in her not to let her gaze wander down along toned muscle guised only by skin tight clothing. For the second time that day she applauded her self control.

She was on a roll.

A hand came up defensively, perhaps on impulse, and suddenly she remembered how incredibly dangerous all of this was. How she was still holding the gun in her hands. How the assault rifle was still strapped to the other woman’s back. How the computer clutched against that firm body with those strong, slender fingers meant the difference between her passing and failing this test. She lifted the barrel to it’s mark.

“The red is a bit much, _imouto_ ,” that voice answering her aggression had come in such a smooth, rich tone that she swore she felt it; a caress in the shiver down her spine. “Too many will remember the pretty girl with the red in her hair.”

Baring her teeth against the blush encroaching on her face she urged herself forward. “Yeah? Funny thing for a knock-out in a catsuit to say.” The other woman didn’t so much as flinch as she gained ground but that comment earned her a raised elegant brow. It took everything in her not to squirm.

She tried to sound commanding. Tried to force the waver out of her voice. “Give it to me and I’ll let you go.”

Her heart paused for the second time when those cold features melted into the most secretive of smiles. Those full lips pressed into a subtle sideways quirk of amusement before slowly parting into a round, “ _Oooh_?”

She didn’t have time to recover before that fucking lunatic stepped backward off the balcony, falling into the void in a cascade of long raven black hair.

“What the _fuck_!” She collided with the guard rail with a jarring clang, cobalt gaze desperately searching only to find that both the madwoman and her target had vanished without a trace. “You _bitch_!” It was hopeless and she knew it. Her impotent shout was answered only by the sound of traffic far below.

Her stomach sank to her toes.

It was 9:48am on Monday, January 23rd, and today Matoi Ryuuko had failed her first mission.

 

\---

 

There were few who would face Mother in times such as these. No one wanted to disappoint Mother and failure was most assuredly, entirely disappointing.

But this was a special case. One in which the bearer of such entirely disappointing news was sure to please. So confident in this was Hououmaru Rei that she didn’t bother hiding the smile that pulled on her face when she pushed into her mistress’ office without knocking.

The room she entered was cold despite the warm, exorbitant hardwood features. Even in the daylight spilling through parted curtains from massive floor to ceiling windows this room held a brisk chill. Rei would not have thought, as Ryuuko had, that it reminded her of the morgue when she approached the extravagant desk separating her from her mistress. She also would not have wondered if this was perhaps on purpose as she slipped soundlessly around it. “Mother,” she spoke gently, just enough to rouse the woman seated there from her thoughts. “Young Matoi’s report has just come in. I thought you might like to see it.”

Deep amber eyes narrowed at the intrusion before reluctantly parting their gaze from the gardens outside. She turned her chair and her mouth coiled into a smile that sent shivers down Rei’s spine. “ _Oooh?_ ” She crooned, displeasure hidden there.

“Yes, Mother. It would appear she ran into trouble.” Rei then relinquished her offering, pressing the manila folder to the top of the desk and sliding it to where it might be reached.

Those thick silver brows arched thoughtfully as Mother spared a glance to her subordinate. “Does my youngest need a wig after all?” She smiled with thin amusement.

“No, Mother. She was intercepted.” It was then that the folder opened with a flick of a wrist, and long manicured nails traced over the image stolen from security footage. Traced a long slow line from the throat of a beautiful young woman to her chin.

“My prodigal daughter shows her lovely face.” The words were spoken in an ardent whisper and those full lips spread into a wide, hungry smile. It was the smile a true wolf in sheep’s clothing might give the poor lamb that gets too close.

A drawn pause lay between them before Mother spoke again, eyes never once leaving the features of the girl in the photograph. “Let Matoi stew in her failings. There was nothing she could have done but she will work harder thinking she’s displeased me.”

“Of course, Mother.”

With a sweep of her mistress’ hand Rei was dismissed. The door closed behind her with the softest click.

Kiryuuin Ragyou, alone with her thoughts, then stroked her lower lip with a long slender finger. Those amber eyes, in a look that not a single person, even Rei, would have been able to describe as _motherly_ , drank in the scene before her. Matoi Ryuuko in white standing off Kiryuuin Satsuki in black on a wide balcony.

“How entirely _amusing_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing please save me.  
> I had this stupid idea in my brain and now it's on the internet.
> 
> Maybe it's a one-shot. I have some more bad ideas I could subject the internet to but we'll see.  
> So I'll add more tags and the like if this continues I guess? Yes.  
> -Mu


End file.
